Come Fly With Me
by princess454
Summary: Love isn't planned. Love is revealed within your mind and shows itself right before you drift off into the abyss of dreams. It's 1933 and who she sees in her head isn't the seemingly perfect man who will soon be in her future...
1. Young Lady

Come Fly With Me

By Princess454

**

When I saw him for the first time, his hair was a mess and his hands were awfully dirty. I was eight years old. I sat obediently in the church pew, my freshly made curls sitting perfectly atop my shoulders. My mother sat next to me, looking up at the priest speaking as if it was just the two of them talking. Naturally my eight year old mind got bored, and that's when I noticed the dirty little boy sitting in the pew across the aisle from me. He wouldn't sit still and his poor mother tried the best she could to keep him from standing up and wandering around. He noticed me staring and waved; I turned my eyes away and looked forward.

When mass ended I saw the mother with her dirty little boy walking in front of us. The mother seemed older than mine, but maybe it was because she looked worried. I'd be too if I had to look after that little monster. The boy's clothes were just as dirty as his hands and I wondered what Momma would say if I even attempted to get out of the house looking like that. Just as that was the first time I saw them, it was the last time I'd see them for a long, long time.

**

1933 was a difficult year around the world. While most were barely eating everyday and the news crackled on the radio that yet another man somewhere in Chicago has jumped off a bridge, my family was doing just fine here in Rochester. It almost seemed like we were living in a different planet than other people.

"My hard work, that's what's got us living under a roof," Father boasted during dinner. "Don't feel too bad about the men on the streets, most of them had it coming."

I disagreed. I couldn't see how Daddy would go to work every day and see the homeless families lining up as early as before the sun rose in front of the soup kitchen for a meal and say those people had it coming. But, I try not to think about it. My parents keep me busy enough as it is, I can't really think about other people.

At the ripe old age of eighteen I was suddenly thrust into a world I was not used to. Sure, I had gotten over playing with dolls and following Momma around all day but it seemed I wasn't quite doing the things I wanted to do anymore. I was home schooled practically all day, then I had piano lessons and singing lessons; by the time that ended there was dinner and then I had maybe an hour or so to myself. Every day was the same.

I treasured lovely afternoons where Momma let me visit my friends from when I had school. There was Vera, Dolly, and Marlene. They were each different in their own way and I loved it. Today was one of those afternoons where Momma let them come over, but of course, knowing Momma, there was always a dual purpose. She had hired an etiquette teacher to implement manners into me and my younger brothers. I guess my friends were included as well.

"You won't be living here much longer, Rose," Momma told me as she swirled the hot rollers out of my hair and let the strands flop gently against me. "If all goes well, you'll be engaged soon and your father and I will be watching you all lovely in your wedding dress-"

"Momma, please," I begged, my eyes rolling. "I don't like talking about this, you know that." I crossed my arms and thought about how my mother seemed to only think about me and my wedding. I'm sure there were other more pressing matters she could attend to.

"I'm sorry, honey. Well your hair looks good, when will the girls be here?" She wondered, fluffing up her own hair and checking her make-up.

"Any minute," I replied and got up off my chair that sat in front of my vanity table. I walked out into the front room and took a seat on the chaise next to the window that faced our street. As a girl I used to love sitting here and watch people.

"I'll start the tea," Momma told me as she glided from my room to the kitchen. I despised tea and knew I wouldn't be actually drinking any; I'd pour it into the fake plant next to my seat in the dining room. My mother was obsessed with following trends and fashions; I suppose the English had started to drink tea again due to the economy and Momma was all about following that trend now.

Soon the girls were over and the etiquette teacher followed shortly after. As I had predicted, all fun had flown out the window. The girls and I took seats at the dining room table as instructed by Momma and the teacher; soon after we were being bossed around as to what to do and how to say things. It was a horrid bother. At one point we were allowed loose conversation—"To only happen should all husbands be out of the room!"—so I used the time to get all the information I could from Vera and her new husband.

"Oh he's just the nicest man," Vera gushed, and having known her all my life I knew Vera was truly happy. Vera was usually shy and extremely humble; but at the mention of her husband, her face lit up bright and ecstatic.

"The wedding was great Vera, I know my family and I had a great time," Dolly let Vera know. We all complimented her on the wedding; Vera's family wasn't terribly wealthy, nor was her husband. The wedding was simple, but most importantly, it was peaceful. I had enjoyed it, personally, but Momma had ruined any peace I had during the wedding by calmly letting me know as we sat in the church that mine would be a lot more extravagant.

I didn't know what the problem was. I watched every second of Vera and her husband's interactions; so slow, so romantic. It was as if they didn't want any of their moments together to end. It was so terribly lovely. If anything, that's what I wanted in my wedding.

"Your hair looked so darling in the wedding!" I heard Marlene exclaim as I emerged back to the present from my thoughts.

"Not as beautiful as Rosalie's," Vera confessed, and smiled over at me. I smiled nervously; I was used to compliments, but I still haven't perfected the best response.

"Thank you Vera, but I must disagree. You looked stunning at your wedding," I replied, knowing that's what any girl would want to hear. Vera's smile grew wider and soon the etiquette teacher returned from where she had been talking to my mother in the kitchen. It seemed loose talk was over.

**

Hours later, I was sitting in bed reading. Dinner had just ended and all I wanted to do was relax. Memories from Vera's wedding kept running through my mind; the event had only been a week ago. Vera seemed so happy in her new home with her new life. I wasn't exactly jealous; her house was a bit too simple, too small. Her husband was a carpenter and I would want mine to be a banker like Daddy, so as he would understand money and business. But her happiness…it seemed so unattainable from where I sat, here, atop my bed listening to the radio crackling from the living room. It seemed my parents were always listening to the radio. I didn't really like it; it was always bad news. I rather not be depressed from other people's troubles. It was as if the radio tried to change the view I had of the world every time, and I wasn't quite ready for that.

Suddenly my mother came in the room and sat atop my bed, smiling at me, her soft hands taking my young ones. "Did you like the etiquette lessons, dear?" She wondered.

"Not really," I confessed, pursing my lips.

"I know but you know what? I had to do it, Grandma had to do it. It's part of everyone's life, sweet heart," Momma explained.

"Vera told me she's never had to do this," I told Momma.

Momma gave me a look that indicated I had said something stupid. "Vera isn't like us. Besides, she's already married and if you don't know the right manners you'll lessen your chance of finding someone."

"Manners have nothing to do with finding a husband, Momma. It has everything to do with love," I replied, and turned over in my bed so as I couldn't look at her. I just wanted to go to sleep and rehearse the words to the song my singing teacher has been teaching me in my head.

"You're eighteen, Rosalie. I'd appreciate it if you started thinking like an adult," Momma told me right before she left the room and closed the door.

I knew my mother knew what was best for me and that she was only trying to help. I just couldn't see why love couldn't be part of the perfect marriage.

**

"He's here!"

Momma swooped to the front door and greeted someone. I was standing in the living room, awaiting their presence. Momma had insisted that I do my hair very well today and that I dress impeccably. I thought today was just going to be an average day, but my mother had other plans. All this talk of weddings and marriage must have gone to her head; it seemed she now felt she had to take the matter of me finding a husband into her own hands.

"We're wasting time having you sit in the house all day. No one is seeing your beauty!" My mother declared a few days prior. She told me it was time I start meeting lots of men just in case I meet the one. I wasn't too fond of the idea; I couldn't just _meet _someone and know I wanted to marry them! But my mother was making it very important.

"Why the rush?" I asked her one night.

"You know your father works really, really hard," Momma started. I nodded. "But he can't be the sole provider. I have the house to keep and your brothers to take care of. You, my dear, are the time where you have to start your own life. We all love you dearly, but we want to see you out there having fun and living life the way we have always wanted to see you do." Momma ran her hand through my hair and I was starting to believe what she was saying. "Your father and I love giving you everything you want, but it's time you find someone else that can do that for you. You want the finer things in life, don't you?" Momma wondered.

"Yes, more than anything," I replied. At this statement my mind began whirling with thoughts and ideas; me in a big house, decorated to perfection, the most beautiful house anyone has ever seen. Me dressed in high fashion sitting in the garden chair, looking around at all the pretty flowers that grew around the estate. And then the thought of a handsome man coming outside from the backyard doors to greet me, kissing me on the cheek and asking me how my day had went.

"Then make it so that you _can_ have all the things you want," Momma advised. She reached her hand up again but this time not to brush my hair back but to caress my face gently. "Rosalie, you're blessed with beauty. Don't throw away the chance of having a wonderful life."

Momma then decided that I'd been cooped up at home or at school for most of my life and hadn't a clue what to look for in a man; therefore, she was going to seek out some bachelors she approved of for me. I was to meet them and see how things went from there.

"What do I do, Momma?" I had asked right before the first gentleman arrived.

"You just stand there and look pretty. Don't talk too much; be mysterious," Momma replied just before the knock sounded at the front door and she went to answer.

The first man wasn't what I had in mind when I imagined my life in the future. He was older, had a big mustache, and seemed to have started balding. He was too tall as well. These were my first thoughts of Henry Jones.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Hale," Henry said to me as he took my hand and kissed the top of it. "You're everything your mother told me you'd be like and more!"

"Oh, Henry. Please, do join us for some tea?" Momma asked him and we escorted him into the sitting room. Momma went to the kitchen and left Henry and I to sit in the room alone. I was rather uncomfortable and had no idea what to do; it was a good thing Momma said to not talk much, for I had nothing to say.

"Wonderful home," Henry noted suddenly, and I looked up to see him looking around.

"Thank you," I replied, and started to play with the hem of my new dress. Daddy had bought it for me on his way home from work a few days ago; it had polka dots all over and looked just like the dresses I saw some of the more fashion forward ladies from Manhattan wear when they visited the town.

"Here we go," Momma said as she arrived holding a tray adorned with the tea. Once everyone got served and Momma took a seat, the remainder of the meeting consisted mostly of Momma and Henry discussing various matters. I barely spoke a word and wondered instead how long he'd be here for. I had already made my mind as Henry took his first steps into my house; he was to be no husband of mine.

The torturously boring conversation finally ended and Henry claimed he had to attend to some business back at home. "I had a lovely time," Henry told me as he once again kissed my hand and stared up into my eyes; I used every will I had to not roll my eyes in disgust. Henry had stared at me during the hour long session almost without a break and it was an understatement that I was happy he had to go home.

Once Henry was gone I flopped back on the sofa without taking care as to what my posture was like. "Finally!" I sighed.

"That went well. Very well. I feel good about this one," My mother said as she began to pour more tea for herself.

I stared at her as if she had grown another head. "Are you crazy? Henry Jones is the most boring, unattractive man I've ever met. There is no way I'm going to spend my life with him," I let her know.

"Rosalie," Momma scolded and she actually looked mad. "I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. This is a pivotal time young lady! I'm doing all I can so that you have a life without worry, without stress, without fear." Momma put her tea cup down rather harshly and I stood up in my chair, suddenly guilty. "Henry Jones is a fabulous architect, and he makes a lot of money. Just because he's not appealing visually doesn't mean he won't make a fine husband, and that's what you need to be looking at," Momma finished, and with that she called for our maid to take the tea away. I couldn't stand being yelled at so I decided to go outside and get some fresh air. As I fumed, sitting down on the steps of our stoop, I didn't notice the milk man had arrived to deliver our bottles.

"Excuse me miss?" He said, and I looked up, startled. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just delivering these," He added, and held up the small metal basket containing four glass bottles of milk.

"I'll take those. Thank you," I told him, and reached for the basket. However, after I took them he still didn't leave. I looked up at him, the sun biting into my eyes, causing me to squint.

"So, what are you so mad about?" The man wanted to know. I almost thought I heard him wrong. What was this man doing, asking me why I was mad? But on close inspection, after he inched forward on his bike and got out of the sun's way, I realized he was actually a young man, a much younger man, close to my age perhaps.

"My mother…she's upset at me, and it's for a dumb reason," I told him, and I looked away down the street and started to watch the passerby and the cars chugging along. I didn't want to keep noticing how nice his arms looked with his plaid shirt's sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and I especially didn't want to keep noticing the friendly smile that made me feel better.

"Parents can be a real drag," The boy agreed; then one of the arms I had been admiring earlier stretched to reach just under my chin. "I'm Emmett McCarty, by the way." The arm had a hand who asked me to grab hold in greeting.

I watched my small, feminine hand become enclosed in his large, manly one. "Pleasure meeting you," I responded, sounding exactly how the etiquette teacher wanted me to sound.

"Well, I have to keep delivering these. I hope I see you later and good luck with your mom," Emmett said, and then with a wink he started on his bike again. I decided I better bring the milk in before I break something, and just as I was about to open the front door Emmett yelled something from the next house. "Hey! I never got your name!" He called.

"Rosalie Hale!" I shouted back then saw that sweet smile flash at me once more before I disappeared inside.


	2. New Friend

**Two**

During the next month, I just about met every man who must reside in Rochester. I didn't know how Momma kept finding them, honestly. And they were all just as boring or unattractive or old as the previous one. My mother didn't seem to know any young gentlemen my age who I could actually talk to instead of sitting there and avoiding obvious stares.

I found comfort in sticking to my usual schedule of the day, things that were familiar to me and that reminded me in this odd time of who I used to be before Momma started thinking of me as some bride. At times I had fun with my mother, talking about my wedding and fantasizing about my future. But with no man in sight that I was willing to consider, our fairytale talks seemed to be just that—fairytales.

I started to feel lonely as the days went on. My friends have started to find other things to do or places to go, and I felt like they were all leaving. Dolly was moving to Hollywood so she could try and find a job in the movie business; she's always been ambitious and dramatic, so I'm sure she would make a fine actress. Marlene's family moved to Chicago because her father's new job required them to. Vera still resided nearby but she was always busy enjoying the married life and preparing for the arrival of her first child.

Everyone was moving on but me. I couldn't understand why. I had been convinced from an early age that I had class and beauty and that I'd be successful in life one way or another; yet while all my friends have gone off to pursue different paths, I'm at home with my parents still practicing the piano or running errands for my mother. I needed a change.

That change seemed to come in the form of Emmett McCarty. The milk boy. But it seemed he was much more than that; as my mother would send me out on more and more errands (I suppose she was hoping I'd run into a man who would be a fine suitor) I saw Emmett everywhere. Not only was he the milk boy but the paper boy _and _he worked at the grocery store.

He said hi whenever he saw me. I wasn't quite sure what we were because we weren't friends yet; I guess it was safe to say we were acquaintances. I didn't like that word though because Emmett didn't treat me like an acquaintance. When I had to pick up random things at the grocery store I'm pretty sure Momma didn't need Emmett always stopped what he was doing and would go find it for me. I found myself wishing he didn't do the kind gesture for I would be there longer if I had to find it myself. And whenever I woke up too early and couldn't go to sleep, I sat by the window of our house until Emmett rolled by on his bike to drop off our milk or our paper. There wasn't much to that interaction; I would simply just wave at him from where I sat.

Our little traditions went on for about a month. During that month Momma seemed to get more desperate. She was talking about taking me on trips to Manhattan to meet up with old friends of hers in the hope that someone had a bachelor son. Even Daddy realized how crazed she sounded.

"The girl will meet someone on her own," Daddy told Momma at dinner one night. "You're driving everyone in the house mad with your concerns. Just let it happen."

I was on Daddy's side. I wanted to get married, I really did. But I didn't want it to be with just anyone. I knew my parents wanted it to be with someone who had class and money, like us—or more than us—but the only boys I knew who were like that were now young men in college. It seemed everyone had left Rochester.

**

I had just finished my piano lesson for the night, around a week after the dinner that caused Momma to place my marriage situation to the side. She decided to concentrate on my little brothers' education and future prospects instead, for a change. I was relieved to be given some time off from being the main subject in the house at all times. I walked my piano teacher to the door and bid her farewell. When I let her out of the house I stood there with the door open, and allowed the fresh air from outside to crash against me. I had been in the house all day and didn't realize how good the air felt. Once my teacher had walked down the street, I gently closed my front door and sat on the stairs of my stoop. I watched the lights from the houses across from me flicker on or off.

It was then I heard a quick ticking sound and immediately whirled my head to the right. A dark figured approached and it wasn't until he stopped under the streetlight did I realize it was Emmett himself. I felt frightened and freaked out at the same time, for Emmett had been on my mind seconds before he showed up.

"Well if it isn't Miss Hale," Emmett said, and he stopped his bike right in front of me.

"Good evening," I replied to him.

"It's dark out, are you sure you're safe being out here all alone?" Emmett wondered, and I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

"Well I felt like getting some fresh air. It just so happened my piano lessons ran a bit late," I explained sheepishly. "I'm old enough to sit out here though, just so you know."

"I know. But it seems your folks treat you like you're way younger," Emmett countered, leaning against the handlebars of his bike.

"They don't treat me like I'm young. They're just trying to make sure I have all the necessary skills to be a…well, a good person," I replied, but feeling like I was sounding brainwashed.

"A good person? Just because someone can play the piano doesn't mean they're automatically a good person," Emmett laughed.

"Don't laugh at me. My parents just want me to be educated. Nothing wrong with that." I crossed my arms and looked away from him.

"Hey now, don't get mad. I was just kidding around. I like that you play the piano. I wish I could, I'm just jealous is all," Emmett said then to my surprise he got off his bike and set it down on the ground. He proceeded to sit next to me on the stairs and I felt my body stiffen in shock.

"What are you doing?" I couldn't help asking.

"Sitting down. That bike gets uncomfortable after awhile," Emmett chuckled. I watched him grinning after his chuckle then continued to watch as his face grew serious. "I see you almost every day, whether you're out in the town or just sitting there inside your house in front of the window reading a book. But you're always alone."

"I-I'm not always alone," I spluttered, offended by the statement. "I stay with my mother and at times my brothers-"

"Family doesn't count!" Emmett cut in. "Where are your friends? I won't believe for a second that a girl like you doesn't have friends."

"I do! Well, I…I did. Most of them moved. They all have different lives now. My closest friend is still here, but she's busy with having a baby soon and all," I explained. I looked down as I didn't feel like looking up into his face of what was most likely pity.

"Oh, I see. How come you didn't move anywhere?" Emmett wondered.

"Because there's nowhere I want to go. I'm currently trying to find someone…" But I couldn't continue. I didn't know how to explain my situation.

"I doubt there's nowhere you wouldn't like to go. Best thing I did was move here," Emmett told me.

"Well, of course I want to travel. But not alone. With my husband," I replied, and I felt a small smile play across my lips at the thought.

"Oh, I see. What does he do?" Emmett suddenly wanted to know.

_How rash he is, simply no manners_, I thought. "I'm not sure what he does," I replied anyway, and Emmett looked at me confused. My eruption of giggles gave me away. "I'm not married! See, no ring." I showed him my left hand.

"How can you not be married?" Emmett wondered quietly, and I was going to ask him what he meant but he all of a sudden stood up. "Anyway, don't let your folks rule your life. Like I said, best thing I did was move here. Sure, I have three jobs and haven't accomplished much yet but it was a very good start."

"Where are you from?" I asked softly, realizing that somehow I had known all along he wasn't from here. He acted and dressed differently. Of course he wasn't Rochester born.

"Tennessee. I lived here for only a small while when I was young, but I was born and lived most of my life there," Emmett shared, and I sensed a bit of shame. "I know not many people around here are used to country people. But we're not all that bad."

I laughed, and stood up as well, thinking that maybe I should head back inside before Momma came out here and embarrassed me. "I don't think you are, either," I replied, giving him a smile.

Emmett smiled back. "Good. Well, I'm off. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow." He hopped on his bike and waved before speeding off. I watched him until the darkness swallowed him up, and I opened my door as slowly as I could so the moment wouldn't end so quickly.


End file.
